Take My Hand
by Kenta Divina
Summary: Started as one-shots overlapping 'Crimson Hat'. Lisbon tries to hold Jane together when his master plan fell apart. ::For now - separate story post:: NEW: When the Curtain Closes: Things must be dealt with in the aftermath. Jane comes to terms that he didn't get exactly what he wanted, but exactly what he needed. THE END
1. Take My Hand: LJ

_(This precedes my last story. It was asked that I do a multi-part story, but I'm not sure how much inspiration I'll have. A few more ideas are bouncing around reviews do encourage!)_

Just overlaps the last two scenes of The Crimson Hat.

**Take My Hand**

Pulling up the dirt path, Lisbon barely managed to keep herself from leaping from the still-moving SUV. The sight of her consultant slouched sideways on a mound sent a flash of fear through her. Red John's limo driver had been described carrying a gun before the sting went wrong in every way possible. As the wheels ground to a stop, she saw him move, rolling partially onto his back to lift his head in their direction.

Taking long strides, she made it to his side in a moment, silently priding her composure as she took in the breathing and smiling form of Patrick Jane, lying in the California dirt. She sat down next to him but held her distance, unsure of his mental or physical state.

"You okay?"

A stupid question… they were both pretty far from being 'okay,' but it was all she could think of to ask.

His answer was equally reflexive.

"I'm fine. Never better…"

He reached for her with one hand, the other clamped tightly to his side. She suspected that Red John's thug had worked him over before her team managed to convince the FBI that they were on an undercover stakeout. He probably had bruised ribs, perhaps even broken. Yet he reached for her cautiously, as if afraid she'd pull back. His hand was cold.

Lisbon gave him a closer examination and realized that he must be suffering from a mild case of shock. Understandable, considering everything he'd just put himself through. His face was pale and eyes had a slightly glassy sheen as he looked up at her. He wouldn't meet her gaze, only fixing his gaze on her throat where her cross was peeking from behind the collar of her shirt.

The sirens in the distance finally cut off. Police procedure meant that the chase was over and suspects apprehended. As much as she hoped they had caught their nemesis, Jane's non-reaction told her that most likely the FBI and CBI had been outsmarted once again.

She tightened her grip on his hand. His sudden hiss of pain surprised her and she turned to look at him.

"She was going to cut off my fingers."

Jane let her turn his hand over. Behind his ring, at the base of his finger, the skin had been broken in a clean line. Blood was welling up, smearing the gold of his wedding band and running into the grooves of his hand. Lisbon found traces of red on her own hand.

Jane's voice was plaintive like a boy's. "She was going to take my ring finger. She had the clippers and said she was sorry… Any finger, Red John said… and she chose that one."

He clenched his hand into a fist and drew it back to his chest. Lisbon watched him, infinitely thankful that Agent Darcy had finally believed them. Had they been a few moments later, Jane would have lost his finger, and likely his occasionally shaky sanity would be even more questionable. Not entirely sure what to do, Lisbon fell back onto her experience dealing with her brothers when trying to get them to snap out of their bouts of depression.

She stood and brusquely brushed the dust from her pants.

"Come on, Jane. Let's go see what the others caught in this net of yours."

Jane blinked up at her in the setting sun, his face full of childish confusion. Lisbon reached down and caught him by the arm, using her entire strength to force him to his feet. Her manhandling seemed to bring him back to himself and he smiled, this time with traces of genuine affection.

"I see some things never change."

Giving him a light glare, she kept her hand on his elbow, pulling him along as they started down the dirt road. "I've been doing this long before you ever showed up."

"Jerking beaten and bruised men around against their will?"

"Jerking jerks around by their arms."

"That's almost poetic."

The flashing lights of the various FBI and local police cars had Jane slowing his steps. Lisbon gave him a moment, watching him closely for any sign of his shock growing worse. To her surprise, he seemed to do the opposite drawing himself together, dropping his hand that had remained curled against his chest and brushing off his suit jacket. He took in an audible breath and let it out slowly. Looking her square in the eye, Jane gave her one of his signature know-it-all smirks.

"Let's go, Lisbon."

She merely nodded and let him lead the way.

Two hours later, she wanted to cut off one of his fingers herself.

Red John's accomplice, the woman named Lorelai, dropped a verbal bomb in the interrogation room that Lisbon did her best to ignore beyond the facts. Her personal feelings had no say in the matter. She was careful to keep her face blank after Lorelai began mockingly referencing the apparent one-night-stand they had shared. Jane was an unmoving shadow behind her until he pushed off the wall and moved toward them. Lisbon watched with a mixture of morbid fascination, fear, and growing anger when Jane calmly rested his hands on Lorelai's shoulders and kissed her firmly on the crown of her head.

"You'll sing like a bird."

With a flash of cold blue-green eyes in Lisbon's direction, Jane swept out of the room.

Lisbon carried on with the questioning, but found herself growing more and more distracted, worrying that her consultant had just taken off on another personal mission. Twenty minutes later, she decided that she had taken all that she could of Lorelai's smug dodging and stomped out of the room herself.

Jane wasn't in the bullpen but Cho was flipping through papers at his desk.

"Cho assign suicide watch for Red John's agent. I want to hold off on either her assassination, or her trying to kill herself to keep her secrets for as long as possible. Make sure it's someone you trust."

The agent nodded without question.

"Did Jane come through here?"

At that, the Korean-American's eyes took on an edge. "He came by for a minute. Said he was going to check on his attic. Haven't seen him since."

Lisbon took two steps toward the door and then stopped. He really didn't deserve her concern at this point… He'd taken too much of her time and energy more than any consultant warranted.

Turning on her heel, she marched into her office and shut the door.

He'd be dealt with later.

(Followed by: **For Now**)

_Author's Note: This will be marked as incomplete. Following chapters will be one-shots that are mildly strung in chronological order as I am inspired so I don't publish multiple one-shots._


	2. This is For: Cho

_Throwing a little humor and some take-back from the other members of the team. This one is for 'hardly loquacious' and anyone else who finds it amusing when Jane gets punched._

_Cho makes his point._

**This is For…**

It wasn't going to be that easy. Lisbon might have joked that Cho wanted to shoot him, but Jane was well aware that some kind of retribution was probably waiting for him.

Jane had been hoping that the team would let the last 6 months of non-communication slide. He'd hoped but knew that realistically, he was going to have to pay. They were a forgiving lot, but even he knew that this time around he'd asked them to cross some very serious lines. And really, they'd done it for their fearless and devoted leader, not for their consultant.

Next question was, how much would they make him pay and by what means?

Lisbon dropped him off at the hospital the morning after their shooting range discussion to get him checked. He had been fortunate the man with the gun was somewhat of a professional at beating on others. He had hit with enough force to leave massive bruising and a couple of small rib fractures, but nothing more.

Getting taped up by a blushing nurse in the emergency room had been fun, but seeing whom Lisbon had left behind to take him back to the CBI immediately dampened even that small pleasure.

Cho looked up from his book in the hotel waiting room. Dark eyes quickly took in the hunched posture of the former con-man and Jane could see him mentally calculating the probable injuries.

Kimball Cho, by all appearances was a simple, loyal man. Simple enough that an outsider might think that Jane should be able to read and manipulate him in a heartbeat. Nothing was further from the truth. Cho was certainly a simple man with a surprisingly shadowed background, who was now content with his lot in life. He was good at his work and knew it. Men like that were actually quite hard to lead on because they were survivors and could see a standard con coming a mile away. Unless personally involved, Cho could care less about how Jane operated, as long as the job was done (and legally acceptable). But this had become personal.

Jane shuffled reluctantly toward his former teammate. "Hello Cho. I see that Lisbon decided to make you the taxi driver."

The Korean only gave him a short nod. "Car is around the corner."

Jane followed him out of the hospital and to the parking lots. He noted that they were headed toward one of the inconvenient side lots. Sighing silently, he tried to prepare himself and take whatever Cho wanted to give him. He knew deserved it.

Just as they reached the standard black CBI vehicle, Cho turned and squared off with Jane.

Jane smiled. "Ah, Lisbon said that you'd want to shoot me. Nice of you to do so with medical help so near by."

Cho, his face practically set in stone, deadpanned back, "I was thinking you'd be able to crawl back to the emergency room before bleeding out."

Jane cleared his throat and straightened up as best he could with taped ribs. Cho eyed him for a long moment then with almost surgical precision, punched him in the face, just to the left of his nose – right on top of the still healing black eye that he'd received at the sleazy Las Vegas bar a few days earlier.

Reeling back, hand held to his face, Jane managed to stay standing. The twist made his ribs echo in pain, but other than one short curse, he didn't retaliate.

Cho was still glaring when Jane finally managed to open his eyes, blinking back tears.

"Jane – you screwed us all over this time around. I don't appreciate being used at anyone's personal whim, least of all yours. This is my job you are messing with, and you should remember that."

"Oh I will… I know I will." He gingerly wiped the space below his nose to check for blood but found none. Professionals liked to hit him a lot recently. Jane had to give his teammate a bonus point for the fact that the re-blossoming black eye would be credited to the recent roughing up in the desert.

"So, um… should I be expecting a similar rite of passage from the others as well?"

Cho turned on his heel and opened the driver's side door to the CBI vehicle. Jane scrambled to make it to the passenger's side before he was left behind.

Five minutes down the road, Cho finally responded. "I am not speaking for the others. You took a big risk this time. Not only with your personal agenda, but with the rest of the team. You do it again - I'll follow our Boss. You mess with the Boss again - I will call in a few favors of my own." He gave the blond man a sideways glance. "I know why you did it – leaving Lisbon out of the loop. She's not great at undercover work. But you didn't think to trust any of us – that's what's pissing me off the most."

Jane's respect for the loyalty of the Korean man to Lisbon rose a few notches. It was the probably the longest conversation he'd ever had with the agent.

"I wanted to keep you all out of it."

Cho gave him a look that screamed 'you are an idiot'. The man could really rival Lisbon in different glares if he were bothered enough to try. "We have been _in it_ since you became the CBI consultant. Since Red John started killing people. You have no say in whether we are in or out. We are a team. You have to learn that fact, and learn it now – or next time someone will end up dead."

The rest of the trip was spent in silence.

_Author's Note: A bit of a filler, but who doesn't like it when Jane gets punched in the face? (such a pretty face, but it's funny nonetheless). Next idea will be Lisbon/Jane again. Please review._


	3. Perchance to Dream: LJ

_Author's note: Jane is still trying to cope with social and mental repercussions. _

**Perchance to Dream**

He clearly wasn't sleeping. He hid it well enough, except that his naps were longer and much quieter. It was a real doze, not the usual mocking silences. Once Lisbon noticed his genuine stillness, she also noticed that he was at his couch well before any other officer, including herself had arrived. A quiet inquiry to the night watchman gave her even more evidence that Patrick Jane was having one of the worse bouts of insomnia ever.

He still closed cases and did what was required, but with less flash and biting commentary than usual. Some mornings he had clearly forgotten to shave, and his hair was damp from a frantic finger combing. He tried to overcompensate by smiling more and cracking jokes, but as soon as attention drifted elsewhere, he deflated like a child's balloon.

She had assumed that he was keeping his head down and trying to win back favor with the team, but the complacency began worrying her. Finally, when Rigsby commented on it after an odd case involving an elderly man poisoning his neighbor, Lisbon knew that Jane's 'normalcy' was hiding something.

Waiting until one evening when the office had cleared and Jane was clearly in the middle of one of his actual naps, Lisbon sighed and pushed away from her desk. Standing in the doorway of her office, she looked across the bullpen at the unnaturally still form of her consultant. Feeling slightly guilty for disrupting some of his real sleep, Lisbon crossed the room and sat on the edge of the couch by his outstretched knee. Jane jerked awake at the movement.

"We need to talk about your sleeping habits, Jane."

He smiled blearily at her and she could easily imagine him as a little boy. But this was no innocent child. He shifted slightly onto his hip, rolling to face her at a better angle. He slurred, "I'm surprised you don't have a teddy bear or a blankey with you for this conversation."

Lisbon held her ground. "If I thought it would help, I would have. But for now, I'd really like to know why you won't go home."

"Home?" his mouth twisted on the word.

"Well, at least out of the CBI for heaven's sake."

Jane made a show of resettling back in the couch, crossing his arms with a long sigh. "But I like it here."

Lisbon smirked at him. "Yes, I can tell by the Jane-shaped hole that you've been digging in this couch for the past two weeks."

She let herself pat his knee in an effort to get him to be serious. "Honestly Jane, you've been gone for six months. You don't need to be catching up on couch time and your apartment is still being rented under your name. I checked."

Jane raised an eyebrow at that bit of information. She crossed her own arms and let a little bitterness slip out, "You vanished on us. You think I didn't keep tabs on your things while you were away? Have you even been home since then?"

"Of course I have – I have to get clean cloths and wash up at some point."

"But you aren't sleeping there." Lisbon sighed, "You aren't sleeping period."

His silence was her answer and she shifted so that her back was lightly pressed against his legs. "Can you go see a doctor and get some medication?"

"I don't need drugs." Jane looked slightly uncomfortable. "I'm reluctant to admit that it seems I've become accustomed to using alcohol as my sleeping pill. Now that the con is over, I'm trying to readjust."

Lisbon eyed the blond man for a long moment. "But you've stopped drinking?"

He _piffed_ at her, "Pu-leeze… Other than messing with my body clock, I'm fine."

"You never had a body clock, mister." Lisbon couldn't stop the corner of her mouth from twitching.

Jane sat up and ran a hand through his hair, "I'm finding that the only place I can catch any decent amount of sleep is here… or…" He paused, "Or your couch."

"Not even in your attic?"

"I have managed to catch an hour or two there – an improvement from last week."

Lisbon took a moment to really look at him closely. His black eye was healed, but the sleeplessness was creating dark shadows on his face and for the first time she could actually see his age which he normally hid with smiles and verbal distractions. He half-heartedly tried to shy away at her examination.

"Ooo, I must look pretty bad for a look like that."

She smiled and sighed. "Well you can't keep staying here. It's not healthy for you to constantly run on catnaps. You should at least _try_ to sleep in your own bed."

"You think I haven't?" Jane's eyes were drooping and he stifled a yawn behind his hand. "I don't like running on empty. Takes the fun out of things. Seems like it's just going to take time."

Lisbon watched as he seemed to sway and then slouch against the back of the couch. He wasn't sleeping at home, or his attic, but he was relatively fine in the company of the team. Jane would be the last to admit it, but she was ready to pin his insomnia on a psychological problem – he wasn't feeling safe in all his usual haunts.

She nudged him gently. "Hey, come on."

He frowned. "What?"

"You clearly aren't sleeping well unless someone is around. Everyone else has gone home for the night, like normal people. Let's try something different. Get your stuff – you're staying on my couch tonight."

At that, Jane's eyes flew open. "Lisbon, no!"

She jumped at his sudden vehemence. "Why not? It's not any different than you breaking into my office to sleep on that couch."

He darted a suspicious glare around the room. "When was the last time the CBI did a bug sweep?"

Lisbon huffed, and stood. "They did one two days ago."

"Right – well, I won't stay at your house, Lisbon. Red John already suspects that you're my weak spot now. I'm not adding to his ammunition."

Lisbon rolled her eyes and walked back to her office. Gathering her bag and keys, she returned to the bullpen and stood in the hallway, hands on her hips. Jane hadn't moved.

"Come on, Jane."

"Lisbon… Teresa, I can't."

Lisbon leaned against the doorframe. "Look – he already suspects and he has enough proof from the fact that you didn't hand me over the first time around. I don't think you staying over is going to change anything. You need to be on top of your game – and you aren't right now."

Jane's hands were gripping the cushions and made the leather squeak. "I don't want you to be any more of a target than you already are."

"Again – that ship has sailed. Let's not make it any easier for him to get to you – or to me, for that matter. Because while you aren't sleeping, I'm worrying about you and the safety of my team – we're both off our games. If you are worried about weaknesses – then right now, you are the weakest link." Lisbon held out her hand. "Let's take care of that."

Jane sat for a long moment more, before slowly standing. His eyes fixed on Lisbon's outstretched hand.

"I hope you are right."

"Jane, you can't let Red John rule your entire life. I know he's important, but there are some things like this, where you need to remember your friends."

He smiled bitterly. "Are they still my friends?"

He was moving too slowly for her liking. The day had been long and she wanted to get home.

"Jane – I'm tired, I wanna go home, I want to deal with this later. Now you are coming with me – Red John be damned."

To her mild surprise, Jane didn't argue further as Lisbon grabbed his jacket sleeve.

The drive to her apartment was quiet. Her self-prognosis was strengthened when she glanced a couple times at her passenger and caught him nodding off against the seatbelt. He'd been on his own, waiting for his nemesis, keeping up a facade for so long that he was having trouble getting out of it.

Jane was nearly sleepwalking by the time she got him to her apartment door. Belatedly, Lisbon realized that he had nothing to sleep in unless she managed to scrounge up any sweats or jerseys that were close to his size. Yet Jane seemed to have his own ideas in that matter as well.

Walking to her couch, Jane began stripping off his jacket and vest. Lisbon went to her linen closet to pull out an extra blanket and pillow. Turning back to the living room, she couldn't help smiling at the droopy figure sitting in the dim light. He'd stripped down to a white undershirt, left his pants on, but his feet were bare, toes digging into the carpet. His eyes were blearily focused on the front door and he was frowning.

Lisbon dropped the pillow at the end of the couch and wrapped the blanket around Jane's shoulders. He snickered lightly.

"Mother Teresa – savior of the poor, the hungry, and the sleep-deprived."

She ruffled his hair and grinned. "Just for you – you're special."

"Don't I know it…" He gave a tremendous yawn, and practically fell over sideways.

Lisbon started toward her own bedroom, but Jane's hand suddenly reached out to grab at her, ending up smacking her sloppily in the leg.

"Hey – hey, Lisbon… Thank you."

"S'ok, I'd do the same for any on my team – you know that."

"You'd send them home, not bring them over."

"They'd actually _go_ home, not avoid it like the plague."

His eyes were closed and his words were more and more slurred together, but it didn't dampen the urgency in his voice. "Lisbon – he's waiting. He's angry and he's waiting. He didn't get what he wanted and he won't let this slide."

Lisbon caught his hand in both of hers and squeezed it gently.

"I know. All we can do is wait for his next move, and have each other's backs. Remember that this time, Jane. We have to do this together."

A faint smile crossed his face, small, but genuine. He muttered something else, but Lisbon couldn't make it out before he clearly slipped away into dreamland.

Unable to resist, Lisbon dropped a small kiss on his forehead before heading to her own room.

_Author's note: _

_Mostly sleepy fluff, but my next idea might be a bit more brutal. Red John is a vengeful sort – Jane has good reason to be worried about the fallout. Some readers might hate what I have planned… but it's an idea that I haven't seen any writers touch – so I'm gonna do it._

_And I love reviews - please review!_


	4. O Danny Boy: JL

_Author's Note: Before anyone complains that these chapters jump or gloss over a lot of things, I am aware that this is not in a traditional 'story' format. Forgive me, for I'm in the middle of packing up 5 years of teaching English in Japan. So I'm not being particularly descriptive in certain areas. These are little ideas strung together that have kept bugging me until they get written. This idea came from the fact that everyone acts as if Jane's entire family is already gone. _

_This is from Jane's viewpoint. _

**O Danny Boy**

The Red John case had ground to a halt yet again. Jane wanted to shrug off his disappointment, but this time they had Lorelei. She was their first live suspect that hadn't been killed within hours of capture. She was proving to be one of the most frustrating people he'd ever met – and she knew it. A small comfort was that he'd learned her tell when she had no answer to the CBI's questions and tried to lead them on, but when it came to the vital clues, the woman deflected, manipulated and stalled.

He refused to consider that he'd met his match as Lisbon occasionally teased. Everyone had a weakness and it was only a matter of time before he found hers.

But time was the other demon on his shoulder. Every day he expected to be greeted with news that Lorelei had been killed during the night, or that one of the team wouldn't show up at work. For the first time, Patrick Jane had managed to con his nemesis. How Red John would react was the question haunting everyone on the case.

Lisbon was spending more time in the shooting range, kickboxing, and running. Jane almost pitied every suspect that dared to try and evade the petit officer.

Rigsby found comfort in his son and lover.

Cho… well, who knew what he did after hours now that Summer had left. He was rapidly going through books – having a new paperback each week. Jane pondered about giving him an electronic reader at the next occasion a gift was expected.

Grace was occasionally kickboxing with her boss, but took more to swimming to relax her nerves.

Jane found himself with little piles of paper animals that would get lost in his couch at work, or taking long walks on the beach. The waiting - the tension knowing of some dark plot would be smashing into his house of cards was nearing a breaking point.

Other CBI cases were almost a relief when they came around.

Jane managed to readjust and start living in his long-term hotel again instead of camping on his boss's or the bullpen's couch. Nearly 6 months after 'coming home' as he'd mentally labeled his return to the CBI, he decided a visit down to Malibu might be in order.

As per his ritual on entering the house, Jane made a cup of tea in the kitchen. Leaning against the counter, he could imagine his wife calling down the stairs to him that he was going to be late to a filming. The tricycle under the same stairs was just visible from the kitchen doorway.

Gently rinsing out the cup, he made his way up to the bedroom.

The white paper taped on the door made his stomach lurch.

Words printed in a vulgar, flowery script mocked him.

_And if you come, and all the flowers are dying._

_If I am dead, as dead as well may be._

_I pray you'll find the place where I am lying._

_And kneel and say and 'Ave' there for me._

_Tit for tat, Patrick Jane, _

_Don't wonder too much, it was hard to track him down._

Heart pounding, Jane turned the doorknob and slowly pushed.

The blood on the wall stared back, bright red on top of dull brown – fresh…

Jane fumbled for his cell phone, grabbing the paper off the door and running for his car.

"Lisbon! Lisbon – do a search in the news-"

She cut him off. "I know Jane, we just got the call. Danny Ruskin was found in Death Valley."

His knees gave out and he sank to the ground next to his vehicle, phone clutched against his ear.

"Jane… Jane where are you? How did you know?"

Paper crackled in his hand. "I'm in Malibu… He was here. He left a message. There's blood on the wall… Danny's blood."

There was a moment of silence, then some muffled voices. Jane managed to gather his wits and take a glance around his front lawn, knowing that Red John probably had someone watching. He'd want to know how his favorite project reacted.

"Jane, I'm sending uniforms to your location. Don't move. I'll be there as soon as I can – Cho and Rigsby can take care of Ruskin, don't touch anything… don't touch anything more than you have. How long ago did you get there?"

He tried to answer – his mouth opened and he breathed, but no words would come out.

"Jane! Stay on the line. Talk to me if you can." He heard her curse and the jingle of car keys. "Local P.D. will be there in five. You don't have to do anything, just wait for me."

"Lisbon…" he finally choked. "Tit for tat… Red John… Brother and sister… You have to check on Lorelei."

Lisbon let loose a coarse four-letter word and shouted, "VanPelt!"

The line went dead.

Jane sat in a stupor until flashing lights surrounded his house and Teresa Lisbon's hands were shaking him.

One week later, they had two bodies and no leads.

Despite the suicide watch on Lorelei, she was found stiff and white in her cell with tell-tale foam on her lips. When examined – the coroner found a false tooth that had housed a poison tablet. She had always had the means to kill herself but was only waiting for the right moment.

Jane threw himself into the last clue that Lorelei was possibly related to Red John. He poured over birth records and background checks. The attic became his nest once more. Lisbon dragged him out once in a while, but it was more as a favor to her that he let himself be taken away from the evidence.

He came up with nothing. Either the connections had been very thoroughly erased, or they were never there. For the first time ever, he wished he had the means to go and shoot paper targets into confetti, or run until his lungs burst. Instead, he turned to what was left of his family.

Danny Ruskin had been cremated and his ashes rested in a stainless steel canister in the back of Jane's car. The last words they exchanged kept ringing in his ears: _Guilt is for marks_.

He was the biggest mark for the most evil creature on the planet. Even worse was that he knew it. Their game… their war, was getting out of Jane's hands. Staring up at the Elvis stain on the bullpen ceiling, Jane sighed.

Guilt is for marks.

Well aware that Lisbon had been watching him closely and fought for his sake to allow him to even be working the case, Jane gave her a small nod as he passed her office door. She gathered her things and followed him without a word. Her determination didn't falter, even as they climbed into his car.

When they reached the beach, the sun was setting. Jane carelessly stripped off his jacket and vest before rolling his pants up to his knees. Lisbon mirrored his actions. Barefoot and with the sun in her hair, Jane had to take a moment to admire how much younger his partner looked.

He lifted the urn from the truck of his car and began walking, knowing she would be with him every step of the way. The wind was strong, pushing at them as they approached the water.

Lisbon stopped at the wet sand but he pushed on until the waves smacked his legs and ruining the suit pants he wore. Jane opened the urn and let the seawater rush in.

"Goodbye, Danny." He blinked fiercely. "I'm sorry."

Lisbon didn't say a word all the way back to her apartment. When she let him in, he stood in the middle of her living room and stared down at his damp, sandy pants. With familiar motions, Lisbon went to the closet and pulled out his bedding and dropped them on the couch. She also pulled out a pair of pajamas that he'd eventually left behind during one of his stays.

She pushed his shoulder gently. "Come on, Jane."

Her voice broke through the strange haze that had been wrapped around his mind since being told of Lorelei's death. His hand came up and caught a curl of her hair.

"Lisbon, that song… it's Irish."

She frowned. "Yes. Everyone knows it."

"Your heritage is Irish. He's warning us that you're his next target. He'll be coming after someone you know, your family." His fingers tightened on that one lock, his only connection. "Can you handle that?"

For a moment she looked away and his heart sank. As much as he wanted her to be as far away from Red John as possible, her choice of work and expertise made that impossible. He knew, and yet he selfishly wanted to hear it from her – to have her devotion reconfirmed for him.

Bright green eyes turned back to him. "I have to. I've warned my brothers. I've told them as much as is legally possible. All I can do is pray that they are ok, and maybe Red John goes for a more direct shot at me."

It wasn't enough for him. He needed to hear more. "You should leave me… Leave this."

The corner of her mouth kicked up and the dimple that he found absolutely adorable made its appearance. "Too bad Mister Jane – I'm not going anywhere. This is what Red John wants. He likes to sit back and watch you chase his breadcrumbs from the shadows. He waits for you to wear yourself out, and then he makes his next move. If I can keep you from doing that too often, then it's a win for us. We're holding him back – ever so slightly. I'll take what I can get."

Her hand came up to capture his, her small fingers tracing the back of his hand to his wedding ring. The light touch brought a lump to his throat and he swallowed against it when her gaze dropped.

Her hand wrapped around his and she squeezed. She spoke fiercely, almost sounding angry. "Don't let him take you, Jane."

Slightly confused he tried to step back but she pinned him with a glare. "_Don't_. After all of this, at the very end of it, that is what he wants. He wants _you_. If you can swear he won't get you then I think I can bear the rest. If you can keep _yourself_, then ultimately we will win. That's how I see it."

Lisbon stared up at him, trying to find proof that he understood. And he did, but he was also waiting for the exact moment when she'd notice how close they were standing - at night - in her living room.

He helped her along by leaning down a fraction and smiling, "I swear, Teresa Lisbon."

With a childish delight he hadn't felt in months, Jane watched his partner blush from her ears to under the collar of her shirt. She jerked away, dropping his hand and shoving her fists into her pockets.

"Well good then… I'm holding you to it." She walked toward her bedroom and tossed her final words over her shoulder. "Our team verses his."

_Author's Note: _

_Thanks to all who have alerted this story and reviewed! I doubt there will be much more – maybe 2 chapters?_

_Not much on the dialog this time around, but Jane wasn't really up to speaking for me. Anyone else wonder if Red John is a little too devious? As in, over-devious to the point of possible predictability? I'm counting on it ;)_


	5. Too Close For Comfort: LJ and C

_Author's Note: Um, some people might be sad by how I start this one. Diving right into the thick of things…_

**Too Close for Comfort**

That wasn't her alarm.

Lisbon's hand smacked the corner of her side table painfully. She made a second try and grabbed her cell phone. Shaking her sore digits, she flipped it open.

"Lisbon."

"Agent Lisbon, this is Sacramento PD. I'm sorry to inform you, but a couple of hours ago, Former CBI Special Agent Virgil Minelli was killed in a hit and run. His companion, a May Nelson, is in critical condition. They don't expect her to make it. She has severe head trauma."

Lisbon sat on the edge of her bed unable to move. "I'm sorry, can you repeat that?"

The stranger's voice obliged, this time with a note of sympathy.

"Right." She ran a shaking hand through her hair. "Thank you. Where are they sending him?"

"The CBI is naturally investigating this in cooperation with the PD. Agent Minelli's body is being sent to the CBI morgue."

"Thank you."

The line disconnected. Lisbon stared blankly at the dirty golden stripes of light that were filtering through her window from the street.

Minelli… dead… two nights after laying Danny Ruskin to rest.

A shuffling at her bedroom door told her that the sudden stillness had not gone unnoticed. Usually after a phone call she was up and pulling on her work cloths.

"We have a case?" Jane yawned. A moment later he was wide-awake – staring hard at her. "Lisbon, what is it?

She forced the words out. "Minelli is dead. Hit and run."

When she finally managed to turn and look at him, rather appealing in his sleep-mussed state, yet she could only focus on his eyes. She watched his mind rapidly filter through all the possibilities and reach her similar conclusion. Ironically, he clung to hope.

"We don't know…"

She glared at him. "Yes we do. We knew something like this was coming – just not who. Not so soon." Tears made Jane's figure turn into a light watery blob and she turned back to the window.

Silence rang through the bedroom until he finally took a few more steps to crouch in front of her.

"Lisbon…" Fingers brushed at a tear that she hadn't even felt spill over.

"Teresa, it's okay."

She took a shaking breath, not even caring that the dam had been broken, tears streaming down her face. Reaching out blindly, she latched on to him, needing something to anchor her. She felt him shift, sliding onto the bed next to her as she clung to his arm like she was drowning.

"I just need a minute… Sorry, Jane…"

Jane shushed her gently, reaching out with his other hand to pull her against him, tucking her head against his shoulder like a child.

"My brave little Lisbon." She felt him press a kiss to the top of her head and half-heartedly thumped him on the leg for the possessive remark. But she couldn't resist pressing her face harder against his collarbone as the sobs began. Jane held her, gently rocking her until she got a handle on her grief and mentally put it in a box to be dealt with later.

Opening her eyes that were slightly itchy from her tears, she was embarrassed to find that Jane had maneuvered her so that her legs were swung across his, and she was practically curled up in his lap. His t-shirt was damp and his hands were still smoothing up and down one of her legs and running through her hair.

For one glorious moment, Lisbon let herself enjoy his closeness – let him be her rock in the storm she knew was about to come. But something felt wrong…

She pushed him away slowly, carefully. Jane let her, his hands stilling and slipping from her body. His gaze was fixed on hers, and she could literally feel her heart crying out towards his, and by the look in those amazing blue-green eyes she was pretty sure he was hearing it. Yet she forced herself to stand up and move away.

They had a case – albeit unofficially, but they weren't going to sit around and wait for reports to come in.

When she came out of the bathroom, face washed and neatly dressed, she found Jane standing in the middle of her living room, dressed, but looking uncomfortable. She grabbed her keys and checked her weapon before making her way to the front door. He followed, as always.

Hand on the doorknob, Lisbon turned suddenly and looked up at her consultant. She watched his pupils dilate slightly before he tried to hide his reaction with a smile. Under the guise of fixing his collar, she let her hand slide down to his heart.

"Thank you, Patrick Jane."

He wrapped his hand around hers and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Let's go get the bad guy, Lisbon."

They weren't allowed on the case. No amount of threatening, begging, string pulling, or offering of favors would let Lisbon or her team anywhere near the case. Even with Jane and Lisbon's gut instincts being backed by similar theories by Grace and Cho, there was actually no hard evidence that Red John's hand had been behind the death of one of there CBI leaders.

Jane, being Jane, got them nearly all suspended with his usual antics of defying any orders to do his own investigating. Yet he found the same thing – no hard evidence to connect Red John to Minelli's death. LaRoche had been brought back in to temporarily head the Serious Crimes department, and had immediately drawn some new and heavy lines.

Lisbon spent her time brooding behind her desk staring at a pile of Red John files, but not opening them. At night, she wordlessly opened the door for the haggard form of Jane as he returned from whatever new theory he had been chasing all day. He wasn't going home, he was restlessly sleeping on her couch to the point that she could honestly almost see a Jane-shaped indention in it. And he was touching her more and more often.

Innocent touches, but he'd never before taken her hand in the mornings, just to turn it over to examine the palm, or trace the blue veins at her wrist. He'd never brushed his fingers through her hair while reaching for his teacup over her shoulder in the break room. And never let his fingers gently catch the hem of her pants when she paused to nag him on his couch.

And she liked it.

They were growing closer… a thought which should have given her a secret thrill, but instead was filling her with more and more dread. And she wasn't entirely sure why.

She finally went to the one person she knew she could trust the most at discretion and honestly.

"Cho, may I see you in my office please?"

He closed his book promptly. "Yes ma'am."

Lisbon closed the door, but made a point to leave her blinds open. Sitting back down, she motioned to the Korean man to do the same.

"Cho, I've got a theory, but I need a second opinion to just be sure I'm not over-thinking this."

"This is about Minelli and Red John."

"And Jane… the timing of all this just seems too… planned."

Cho leaned forward, hands clasped at his knees. "Makes sense – Red John probably wants revenge on us for catching his woman. He wants to do maximum damage to us, emotionally and psychologically."

"It's more than that I think." Lisbon felt herself blush, but ploughed on, "I am going to tell you something that cannot leave this room."

Cho raised an eyebrow at her. "Jane is staying with you – maybe sleeping with you?"

"He's staying with me, on and off, yes." Lisbon gave her friend a glare. "Not sleeping like that…"

"But…"

"Jane's last immediate family member is killed by Red John. That leaves him rather… vulnerable. He comes to me for support." The next part makes her struggle to finish. "Then Minelli is killed, May is still in a coma, probably never to recover. Jane is still with me… we… _needed_ each other."

Cho was always quick at connections. "You think Red John is driving you two together."

Lisbon met his dark eyes. "Yes, I do. And I fear what that might mean for everyone."

Cho was perfectly still as he reconsidered all the facts in this new light. Lisbon waited patiently, fingers toying with one of Jane's last 'forgive me' presents in the form of a paper butterfly.

"I think you may be right." The Asian man frowned. "What do we do about it? If this is Red John's plan, and he realized that you've picked up on it, he'll change things and we lose this possible lead."

"We can't let Jane know."

Cho gave his boss a look. "I'm not Rigsby."

"You're right, I think though, we should keep this between us for now. Out of all of us, I'm the most likely target for whatever Red John has planned."

"Then we put surveillance on you."

"It can't be the normal means – Jane will spot that in a moment, as will Red John."

"What do you suggest then?"

Lisbon sighed, "How do you feel about becoming my stalker?"

Cho gave her a half-smile.

_Author's Note:_

_Things are starting to heat up – with Red John, and between our lovely couple! I'm really hoping for a few more reviews – alerts are fantastic, but hearing opinions and thoughts really motivate!_


	6. When It's Gone: LJ and Team

_Author's Note: Thank you everyone who reviewed and sorry for the delay! Made me happy in a time where I'm dealing with a lot of stress. Moving is never easy. Moving across an ocean is even less so. _

**When It's Gone**

Their latest case landed them in an old historical printing factory. It was self-explanatory for any agent, and not even worth the effort for Jane to get off his precious couch. Yet, still holding to his new trend of keeping a maximum of two meters distance between them, Jane was there.

The case was an open and shut suicide of a middle-aged mentally challenged man. Even estranged family members and the few friends he had were not surprised that his body had been found at his old workplace. When the factory had closed fifteen years earlier even though it was a working museum, he had been unable to cope with the unemployment status. The victim had a history of other suicide attempts, but someone had always managed to stop him. But this time he had returned to his beloved factory, climbed up to the manager's catwalk, and thrown himself over the railing.

Lisbon and Rigsby scaled the metal stairs to the point where the man had allegedly dropped to his death to look for any solid evidence. Sections of the platform had been replaced, but it had been nearly a decade since the last repairs and the frame swayed ominously. They had nearly reached the point where their victim had possibly jumped, when Lisbon half turned to look at her biggest team member.

"Maybe having you come up here wasn't such a good-"

There was no warning. The scaffolding under her feet gave way, an older brace snapping apart from the newer section. Rigsby grabbed at his boss's arm but missed and for one horrible instant, Lisbon was suspended in midair.

In the back of her mind, she registered a shriek of fear from below and a faint "Boss!" but she was more focused on grabbing and holding on to the broken platform. A ragged bit of metal sliced into her forearm, but she managed to hook her fingers into the grating. Dangling four stories above a series of old machines and concrete floor, she bit her tongue hard, to keep from screaming.

"Boss! Hold on!"

Rigsby was stretched out on his stomach behind her, reaching out to try and grab her by the belt.

"Rigsby, get out of here - you might be next."

"No way, boss... Just wait a sec. I can almost reach."

"Dammit Rigsby - you're going to fall too!"

The junior agent didn't budge, just locked and arm and a leg around the metal frame of his thankfully more stable catwalk and reached for Lisbon again.

"Just don't move. I'm going to grab your belt and your arm. When I have you, let go and grab me."

Lisbon couldn't argue. She could hear the remaining bolts straining above her and just as Rigsby's big hand grabbed her arm, the platform beneath her gave up and plummeted toward the ground. Lisbon never quite appreciated the size and strength of her 'little brother' until, with one arm and gritted teeth, he hauled her up so she could easily reach a secure grip on the guardrail and pull herself to relative safety.

Panting, and admittedly shaken at the close call, Lisbon didn't pause. They carefully, but quickly descended to the ground, testing each section of the catwalk before crossing. Feet finally on concrete, Lisbon gave Rigsby a beaming smile.

"Thanks Wayne."

He flushed, cradling his arm. "I'm just glad you were in front of me. I don't think you'd be able to pull me up. Good thing you're so small."

Lisbon laughed a little. "Usually it's a curse, but in this case, I agree."

An instant later, the rest of her team surrounded the pair. VanPelt managed to restrain herself from hugging Lisbon, but couldn't stop from wrapping both hands around Rigsby's arm.

"Oh my gosh! That was crazy!"

Cho gave them both a short nod, "Nice save, Rigsby. Are you alright boss?"

"I'm fine. Might be uncomfortable with heights for a while, but I'm fine."

"You are not fine. You're bleeding!"

Lisbon turned just as Jane whipped out a handkerchief to press it to the cut that was slowly but steadily staining her shirtsleeve.

"Just a scratch."

Cho raised an eyebrow. "A scratch that might need a shot. This place isn't exactly clean."

"I'm fine. Rigsby had to pull me up one-handed though. I think a stop at a hospital on the way back is in order." She pushed Jane away as he hovered over her arm. "Really, Jane, I'm fine."

"Hold still, woman! You don't want to bleed all over your car do you?"

About to smack him for being a pest, Lisbon hesitated at the sight of Jane's still panic-y glare. Instead, she rolled her eyes and held out her arm so he could tie his handkerchief around the 'wound'.

Three hours later they were all back in the CBI bullpen.

"Boss I have some info for you."

Lisbon glanced over at her second-in-command and got the slight tilt of Cho's head that indicated that his information was not case related. She nodded casually and gestured to her office.

"Sure."

Cho simply handed her a small USB drive and went back to his work. Lisbon tucked it into her pocket and went for a cup of coffee, dodging Rigsby on the way into the break room. His arm was in a sling as per doctor's orders from straining it, but he still gave her a cheerful wave with it as he passed by, other hand holding a fold-over peanut butter sandwich.

At her desk, she glanced at Jane on his couch before inserting the drive into her laptop. Opening the single document, she tried to keep her face neutral.

_Borrowed tools from friends. Found some traces of vermin. Only one in the living room. It seems they like to listen in on conversations but have a long reach._

She and Cho had decided to refer their secret operation as anything related to camping or a vacation. It seemed that their hunch that Red John was watching Jane's relationships closely was paying off. That meant they were going to have to up their game, which was fairly easy, since Jane was unconsciously playing along.

Lisbon knew that he hadn't taken the last misadventure very well. Even now, she caught movement from his corner of the bullpen from the corner of her eye. Habitually, he would be sitting up, and looking for her moments after waking. She kept her eyes trained on her laptop, quickly writing back:

_It was only a matter of time. May call pest control soon. The bait is easy to find, and quite possibly irresistible at this point. Thanks for watching the place while I'm gone. _

She saved and closed the document before ejecting the drive. Taking a deep draw at her coffee, she tried to prepare herself for the best acting of her life. It wouldn't be too difficult, but what scared Lisbon the most was how much of the truth she'd have to show their enemy. If it went wrong - they were feeding the fire and not containing it.

She'd nearly died today - a chocolate shake was in order. She probably ought to get one for Rigsby as well, considering he'd saved her life.

She picked up the phone and dialed a nearby ice cream shop and ordered for her team.

That evening, she was opening her front door once again to the man who somehow managed to look lazy and well dressed at the same time. In the back of her mind, she wondered why she hadn't simply given him her spare apartment key. He greeted her with a shallow grin and casual, "Hey, Lisbon." before crossing the threshold.

This time, he didn't immediately take off his suit-jacket as was the usual routine, but stood in the middle of the room with his hands shoved in his pockets. Lisbon frowned.

"What is it, Jane?"

She recognized that cold, dark look in his eyes. She could see his brain, ticking away at all the repercussions of his next decision.

"I'm not sure the risks are worth it anymore. I think, maybe, I'd better try doing this on my own again."

_Away from you..._ was the unspoken statement.

Lisbon pushed back her hair in frustration. "Because that worked _so_ well the first time... Jane, you are not a lone soldier - hell, you're not even a police officer. You are a consultant. We all know what might happen to us when we sign up at the CBI. This could be any other case, any other serial killer."

"But it's not. And it's me and Red John. It always has been, and always will be. But now-"

She cut him off. "You swore to me, Jane. You leaving is just as good as handing yourself over to him."

"I know. But I didn't-"

"There are no loopholes in this."

They stood in her living room, silent. Lisbon knew that she was being watched, even if by friendly eyes, yet she felt eerily calm. A line was about to be broken and she knew it would have to be Jane's move, not hers. She had made her peace with her emotions and desires over a year ago, when she had once more brought this damaged man back into her little work family.

Lisbon put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow at her consultant who was actually avoiding her gaze like a misbehaving puppy. "Jane, when I made you swear that Red John wouldn't get you, I meant it in every way, shape, and form. Mentally and physically - he cannot have you. You break that promise and I will never forgive you. I will ban you from the team. I will shoot you myself if it comes to that."

He didn't argue and that raised Lisbon's warning flag even higher. "Jane..."

"It's not worth it."

"What!" Lisbon took one long step and jerked him around by the arm until he was facing her. "Nine years you've been on this crusade. Eight you've been dragging me and my team around with you. Don't you dare belittle our work and our sacrifices now!"

Jane's eyes were hollow green steel as he looked down at her. "I'm not - not in the slightest. But today..."

He reached out a finger and ran it gently down her cheek and along the tendon on her neck. His gaze sharpened at her involuntary shiver. "Today I watched as you almost died on a case that wasn't remotely Red John related. I watched, and I haven't felt that kind of terror for someone else in such a long time... How can I keep my promise when someday it _is_ him?" His hand slipped around to the back of her neck, pulling her forward. "How can I, when you are the one thing that holds me together?"

This was it. This was a moment that would make or break the case and quite possibly, the two souls standing in the room together. Lisbon almost didn't care, her focus entirely on the struggle she felt in her partner.

She reached up to gently frame his face in her hands. "Patrick Jane, you will keep your promise like you have kept it for nine years. You will find him. I will keep you from doing anything too drastic. You never stopped before, and you are not going to stop now. Your promise to me will make you stronger than him. Just remember that. Always remember."

Jane leaned down to press his forehead against hers. His other arm slid around her waist, drawing her closer. The tension was making Lisbon's hands start to tremble, but he tilted his head to press against her fingers. He wanted contact - physical assurance that they were here, together on the edge - and Lisbon obliged but she could not kiss him. That was the line he would have to cross on his own.

When his eyes finally opened, Lisbon smiled up at him and let her hands fall to his chest. "It's ok, Jane."

Eyes hooded, he finally bent and let his mouth drift down to touch hers. "Forgive me, Teresa."

It was brief, chase, and all too short. He pulled back almost reflexively, but she chased him. Their second kiss was much more impassioned, she pushed him, opened him, and took what she wanted and knew he needed - knowing that it was possibly her first and last chance for this in a long time.

When they broke apart, she trailed her fingers over his lips once more and whispered, "Only if you remember, and forgive me too." And then, because she couldn't stand it any longer, she buried her face in his chest and blurted out, "Love you, Patrick Jane."

Something in her chest hurt. She knew her last words were quite possibly the nails in the coffin for one of them. She was determined for them to not be his.

His arms came up and locked her against him. He held her, and that was all she remembered for the rest of the night.

When Lisbon woke up, she was disoriented for a brief moment at the feeling of someone moving next to her. Jane had moved them from the living room to her bedroom and then tucked her in. He was sleeping on his side atop the comforter, his back to her. She smiled sadly and slipped from her bed.

She reached for her cell phone and texted: _Trip is planned, dates to be determined_.

Her code to Cho stating that: _The trap is set_.

_Author's Note:_

_The trap is set, but who is going to trap whom? Reviews make my world a much happier place! Arigato gozaimasu!_


	7. Where is the Silver Lining?: JL and team

_Author's Note: Longest chapter yet and I'm going to get pretty mean - just warning you! And lets face it - Jane is not exactly a brave individual..._

**Where is the Silver Lining?**

When it actually happened, Cho was almost disappointed at the un-originality of the kidnapping.

He left work and settled in the van that had basically been his home away from home for nearly two months. Parked behind Lisbon's apartment, he'd rigged up enough camera relay points to use a weak signal that was virtually untraceable unless one was actually looking for it. That canceled out the use of audio feed, but it was a sacrifice that had to be made - especially after discovering that an audio transmitter had already been eavesdropping on the apartment.

He had just settled down to wait and scan through the day's recordings, when Lisbon returned from her evening run. As per her usual tradition, she went into the kitchen for a bottle of water. When she moved out of view, the front door opened a second time and a man wearing a dark blue shirt and jeans entered, a weapon in his hands. Closer look at the grainy image told Cho that it was a Taser-gun - one of the nastier versions that shot barbs into the victim to run electricity through their bodies.

Lisbon was alert enough to register the intruder in moments and made a dash for her personal weapon that Cho knew she kept in her bedroom, but the man shot her in the back and she collapsed, jerking and twitching in the hall. He could see her lower half in the upper corner of his video feed. He waited, tense and hand on his phone, ready to speed dial the team.

This was the part of the plan he was most uncomfortable with. They had to let Lisbon be taken - a risk she was adamant that would be their only way to get Red John once and for all. He had his suspicions as to why she was willing to risk her life in this unauthorized operation. In Cho's mind, the risks and the chance of success broke even - something he wasn't willing to back up except out of respect for his boss. And now, he watched as the intruder used her own cuffs on her, dragging her out to the center of her living room. The kidnapper crammed something into her mouth and used a strip of tape to gag her before moving to the TV set where Cho knew someone had put in the audio surveillance.

He watched Lisbon closely when she rolled on to her front, under the guise of trying to stand. She didn't have much time before the stranger would notice. Her hands twisted in the cuffs, and a light went off in the van. Lisbon had triggered the tracer in her watch - a sure sign that she knew her kidnapper was working with Red John. He must have said something to her.

A moment later, the man had pocketed his audio equipment and grabbed Lisbon by the hair just as she managed to get to her feet. He said something to her, then pressed a white cloth to her face. Cho was talking rapidly to Rigsby when Lisbon's body went limp and the man carried her out.

Meanwhile, Jane was musing to himself about whether he ought to try and cook something for dinner at Lisbon's or to get take-out from the new Greek restaurant from down-town. He had always enjoyed baklava. Humming cheerfully to himself, he juggled his keys in his hands as he walked to his car. He'd left the CBI moments after Lisbon had packed up and called it a day and he took a detour to a nearby farmer's market. He knew she'd be going for a run, and if he timed it just right, she'd be finishing her shower by the time he arrived. He liked the idea of her coming out of her bathroom in nothing but a towel.

Jane had enough warning from sensing someone coming from behind him to get one arm up when someone jumped him from behind. His defense was pathetic. He wasn't a fighter - never had been, never would be. One blow to the side of his head had him reeling and then he was blind. A piece of cloth was tied over his face and tightened to a point where he feared suffocation. His hands were tied behind him and the rope was looped through his belt so he couldn't twist around to take off his mask.

He squirmed, and forced a question through the tight cloth, "What do you want?"

His answer was a punch to the kidney.

A moment later, he heard a car pull up and was roughly shoved into the back - the trunk, if the smell of exhaust and being pushed down to the floor meant anything.

They drove for what felt like ages. Jane strained and pulled at the ropes on his wrists, but the man had seriously known what he was doing. He did manage to rub his head on the floor and get the cloth worked off to his nose so he could breath better. He tried banging the sides of his prison and yelling, but the car pulled over and the trunk opened.

There was the distinct click of a gun being locked and loaded, before he felt the cold press of steel against his temple.

"Mister Jane, I will warn you only once. Shut up. If you make any excessive noise, I promise that your little girlfriend will suffer for it. No one is going to hear you out here anyway."

Jane's heart sank, but he nodded. They had Lisbon. Red John had been waiting for this - he wasn't sure how his nemesis knew that their relationship had taken a turn, but it was probably only a matter of time. But he had her as well - or would have her soon. His mind began to race - trying to go over the past few hours and see if there had been any hint, any warning that today they had been followed or set up. The trunk slammed shut and didn't open again until Jane sensed they had reached their final destination.

There was asphalt underfoot and he could hear a distant passing car, so they were still somewhere at least partially civilized. But with his arms being twisted and pulled at a painful angle while stumbling alongside his captor, he was more focused on trying to find a chance to break away. That hope was dashed with the press of a gun between his shoulder blades.

A door opened and then there was carpet underfoot. He was pulled through some hallways, other doors, and down a few flights of stairs. Down - his fears escalated - all of his consulting with CBI had taught him that going down was never a very good thing. Dungeons and cellars were places of pain and despair. He wished he'd been handcuffed, then he might have stood a chance of picking the locks... but ropes - he needed something sharp.

A click of a light switch, and Jane knew they had reached their final destination. His hands were yanked up and tied above his head to a metal bar. The cloth on his face was untied then forced into his mouth and knotted behind his head, effectively gagging him. He heard another door open and someone carrying something heavy approach.

"Put her over there."

They had Lisbon.

Jane jerked at his bonds again, but felt no slack. For his effort, his captor punched him in the stomach.

Two men were tying Lisbon to a metal chair. Her hair was covering her face and she was wearing her running cloths. Jane couldn't help trying his hands one more time and trying to shout her name through his gag. The men turned, but only snickered. They were wearing plastic masks that distorted their features like out of a children's Halloween shop. Masks that Jane remembered quite well from his last face-to-mask encounter when he had been saran-wrapped to a chair.

As if he were reading Jane's mind, the smaller of the two figures approached him.

"Perfect symmetry, Patrick Jane. Can you guess where you are?"

Jane glanced quickly around the room, unwilling to take his eyes off of his nemesis for even a moment. At first he thought they were in the basement of some cable company or factory. Piles of spare cables were neatly arranged on shelves, heavy lights and wooden frames were leaning against the walls. Jane spotted a large rolling TV camera in the corner and realized that they were in a studio. If Red John's words meant anything - this was probably the same studio where he had initially provoked the serial killer.

"I see you made the connection. Let's see how your lovely lady reacts."

Red John nodded to his cohort, who abruptly threw a bucket of water at the still unconscious figure now thoroughly strapped to the chair. She came to with a jerk and a gasp. She yanked at her bonds, immediately alert and searching. When she saw Jane, she hesitated,

"Jane?"

"Ah, so the lovers meet. I should go ahead and inform you that for at least one of you, this will be the end. Deciding on who will survive will be up to you."

Jane lashed out with his foot and managed to land a glancing blow to Red John's back. The man barely flinched, whipping out an old-fashioned straight razor and pressing it against Jane's throat.

"Now, now, my friend... let's not be too hasty."

The other masked man quickly tied Jane's feet together and pulled him back to a pole he hadn't felt behind him.

The mellow, almost pleasant voice of Red John added, "Retie his hands as well. He'll need one of them in a moment."

Jane didn't struggle - every fiber focused on Lisbon as Red John dragged her chair to rest directly in front of him. His heart tightened when she gave him a small smile, hair tangled and stringy from the water that had been dumped on her.

"I'm ok, Jane. Just hold on."

Without any preamble, Red John suddenly sliced Lisbon's shirt down the center and tore it off her body. Jane jerked and strained toward her. She sat still as stone as he also reached up and roughly tied her hair back in a rubber band. Now in only her running shorts and sports bra, he began making shallow cuts, superficial wounds that actually didn't take long to close, but provided the dramatic effect of dripping blood all over her. Red John would cut, then watch the crimson liquid run down to a stopping point, then cut somewhere else - all over her arms, ribs, legs, and stomach. Lisbon gritted her teeth and didn't make a sound.

The razor blade came dangerously close to her throat on more than one occasion, but even as Jane watched in fear, Lisbon stoically sat and waited, head bowed and breathing rapid and shallow. Jane wanted her to look at him. Wanted to see her strength in her eyes and know that she wasn't breaking.

Red John paused, but didn't give any sign of satisfaction or frustration at not getting the agent to react. He wiped the blade on her pants before turning to Jane.

"Let's even the odds, shall we?"

At that, Lisbon's head did come up and their eyes finally met. She was almost glaring at him, and he understood.

_You promised._

He gave her the smallest of nods.

Red John wasn't as concerned about technique with Jane about removing his cloths. Deeper, longer cuts were made to remove jacket, vest, and shirt - deep enough to reach skin. Jane hissed at the slices made on his arms and across his chest. When he was bare from the waist up, their tormentor stepped back.

"I've been waiting for this for a long time - waiting for just the right moment." Red John smiled behind his mask and added another cut to Jane's chest. "You've been such a good player, but until the last year, things had gotten rather stale. To be honest, you were hardly a blip on my radar for such a long time that I was about to just let you go and stew in your self-loathing. Then you pulled that rather brilliant con that forced me to sacrifice Lorelei." He turned to Lisbon who was watching with narrowed eyes. "I owe you some thanks, Agent Lisbon, for bringing back Patrick Jane. For making him a contender again. Just in time for a grand finale of sorts."

Lisbon shifted in her seat. "How do we know you're actually Red John? You've already sent two of your people to their deaths under your name."

Jane gasped in pain when Red John forced his chin up with the blade of his razor - cutting all the way to the bone.

"You never told her, did you?"

"Told me what?"

Red John laughed, "I've spoken with Patrick before. We have met like this once before... Tiger, tiger, burning bright..." He splashed something out of a bottle from his pocket onto Jane's open wounds. Jane couldn't help screaming at the burn of what smelled like tequila on his cuts. Lisbon strained at her own bonds in a futile effort to reach him.

"_Tisk tisk_, Patrick, keeping secrets like that... But then, the lovely Teresa Lisbon hasn't been very forthright either." Red John's henchman grabbed her by the hair and jerked her back, exposing her throat.

"You've anticipated your abduction, which is commendable. We found that device in your watch, so your friends will be chasing it to the city dump right about now. You thought you were so smart. What would happen, I wonder, if I were to kill you now? Would your dear Patrick keep his promise to you? Would he go mad once more? Once broken, things are twice as hard to put back together."

Jane was trying to speak through his gag, desperate to get the focus off of her. Red John ignored him.

Lisbon had no warning. Head yanked back, she didn't see the pliers that appeared in Red John's hand. She screamed as he suddenly tore the fingernail off of her left ring finger. She screamed again when he did the same to her middle finger.

Jane thrashed against his ropes and then collapsed, silently sobbing.

"With your wife, I painted her toenails. I thought it would be artistic to do something similar with your dear Teresa. This, I think, is more lasting..."

Red John's assistant was untying Jane's right arm, strapping it to some contraption that let him only extend it in one direction. Like a puppet, he was forced to extend his hand out in Lisbon's direction. Red John gave the other man a nod and Jane's hand was wrapped around the grip of a pistol.

Their sadistic killer leaned in to look Jane in the eye, black meeting green.

"I'll give you a choice now, Patrick Jane. You can end this torture for your agent. You can spare her any further humiliation and pain, but then you'll be suffering in her place - twice as long, twice as painful. Then, maybe I'll give you another choice for yourself." He stepped back and to the side, out of any path Jane might be able to manage with his limited wrist movement. "I'll give you a moment to think about it."

Lisbon's eyes were wide and her hands were shaking. Blood was dripping steadily to the concrete floor from her torn fingers. "Jane... Please don't do this. I'm fine. We'll be fine."

Jane's hand holding the pistol twitched, and he wished desperately that he could argue - but the gag was still firmly in place, wet now with sweat, blood, and tears. He shook his head, trying to convey his desperation at their situation.

"Jane - trust me. You promised - you swore to me that you wouldn't give in. Don't do this - it's exactly what he wants."

At that, Red John chimed in, "Actually I see two possibilities. He will either give up on our game, in which I'll simply end it here and now, after he does or does not shoot you, or he will challenge me directly like some misguided white knight, and the end results will still probably be the same."

Lisbon stomped her foot using the minimum slack she had in the ropes. "Dammit Jane, don't listen to him!"

He wanted to believe her. He wanted to with every non-rational part of his brain and heart, but the facts were plain to him. They were trapped, tied, being tortured, and the likelihood of escaping was almost zero.

Red John whispered in his ear. "Think of it this way... If you don't do it, I will let my friend here have his way with your little lady. Not quite my style, but certainly his. Would you let her suffer through such a horrible thing? Would you watch?"

"Jane..." Lisbon's voice was carrying that warning tone like when she was about to kick his couch in the bullpen. "Jane, look at me!"

Breaths coming in painful gasps, Jane did as she commanded. Green eyes were locked on his, full of pain, compassion, and for some strange reason, he could read hope. He shook his head at her, not seeing any reason for her to hold on like she was... Saint Teresa... she was still trying to save him. Shouldn't he be saving her? He knew she saw the question and the resolution in his face.

She leaned toward him, pleading, "Patrick, please... trust me... just wait..."

His heart stuttered and stopped. Biting hard into the gag, he hoped she understood, "I love you."

It was a trick he'd seen only once in the circus and he was fairly certain that the gun had been fake. He twisted the pistol around on his middle finger, flipping it upside down. He didn't have time to aim, he just squeezed and fired in the general direction of Red John.

Almost instantaneously, three other gunshots rang out in the basement of the television studio. Red John crumpled to the floor, and his assistant toppled over backwards clearly dead by the state of his right eye. In shock, Jane tried to process the small, friendly hands that were frantically untying him, and the red hair near his face.

Rigsby, in full combat gear, was leaning over Lisbon, untying her and helping her to her feet. Then he was taking off his jacket to wrap around his boss.

Cho was kicking any remaining weapon away from Red John and handcuffing his hands behind his back. The plastic mask was pulled off, leaving a middle-aged man, looking very miffed. Jane almost wanted to laugh at how 'normal' this man appeared. Should he look something like the monster he was?

Grace was carefully wrapping gauze around his chest and arms. He knew that he would have to get stitches at the hospital, but his main focus was Lisbon. He ripped the gag from his mouth and stumbled to her. Torn flesh collided and both of them ignored the pain, just grabbing and holding on to one another.

He realized that he was chanting her name softly into her hair and she was trying to shush him and move them toward the exit. He stopped her, bending down almost frantically crushing his lips to hers to be sure that this was real - they were not dead, and they had survived.

They broke apart and Lisbon smiled up at him. "Come on, let's get to a hospital."

He winced, the adrenaline wearing off and the burning of his cuts making him want to cry for new reasons. "I don't think I'm going to argue with that."

They passed by Red John, being guarded by three police officers and Cho, who gave short nod. Lisbon broke away from Jane to give her second-in-command a one-armed hug and surprised the man with a kiss on the cheek. She said something quietly to the Asian, and he smiled - a full-faced, dimpled smile. Jane felt a stab of unwarranted jealousy, and found himself walking quickly to her side, just as she turned to Red John who was handcuffed to a stretcher, gunshots to the shoulder and his abdomen.

Lisbon stared down at the mousy-haired, middle-aged man with something almost like pity. He glared silently back at the both of them.

Lisbon sighed, "You know, for all your brilliance, and masterminding of so many murders and having so many people under your influence, you are still just a man." She smirked. "You are just a man with the weaknesses of a man. Your pride led you here and just like you played Jane, we played you. I know you must have considered the risks in your schemes, but you probably didn't factor in that this family is unique - shaped by you - designed in consequence to your existence. We were meant to bring you down. Don't blame us - blame yourself."

Jane curled an arm around Lisbon's shoulders over the rough cloth of Rigsby's jacket. He turned away with her to head to a waiting ambulance.

There was a shout and a scuffle behind them. Jane couldn't breath as an arm locked around his neck and wrenched sideways.

He heard a faint crunch and a gunshot, then all went black.

_Author's Note: _

_That was painful. It is strange that this torture wrote itself? Next chapter will be the last one. REVIEW! _


	8. When the Curtain Closes: LJ

_Author's Note: This is it folks. Things explained and closure mostly reached ;) Thanks for all the reviews and follows! This fic reminded me of why I liked writing fanfic to begin with!_

**When the Curtain Closes**

Lisbon sat staring out the hospital window over the drugged form of her consultant. Her fingers absently picked at one of the Band-Aids that were mostly a precaution on one of her deeper cuts. The stitches kept snagging painfully on things when she wasn't paying attention, and quite frankly, over the past few days, she'd been very distracted.

Jane had been drifting in and out of consciousness for the last 48 hours, but never quite aware enough to grasp what had happened. Now, the doctors were weaning him off of the intravenous pain medication and Lisbon knew she'd have some explaining to do.

His arms were wrapped all the way to his wrists in gauze and she knew he'd love to be making jokes about being a mummy for Halloween, but the reality choked her. Some of the cuts had come within centimeters of slicing into a vein or into his chest cavity. He'd lost so much blood, and then Red John had tried to kill him with his bare hands... or, arms, as it were. They were fortunate that paramedics had already arrived and were on standby.

Lisbon shifted in her seat, and then winced. Her own wounds were healing, but it was still uncomfortable to move and stretch any part of her skin across her front. She let herself indulge in taking his hand, reassured at it's warmth that he was still alive. She really hated seeing him in a hospital. He was warm, golden, and full of childish energy. He should never be stuck in a cold, sterile place like this. The time when he was in a fugue state and willingly staying in a hospital was one of the strangest and most unnatural settings in their history together.

His fingers twitched in her hands and she looked up to see his eyes flutter open. She waited, but instead of drifting back to sleep like he had in the past, his eyes darted about until they focused on her.

"Lisbon?" He rasped and tried to reach for her. His eyes widened in pained surprise.

She stood and reached for the cup next to his bed. She held the straw to his lips. "Take it easy - small sips."

He was silently screaming questions at her as he drank. She tried to smile, "Don't try to move too much. You fractured your neck... or really, Red John did. I have no idea how you're not paralyzed, but it was a close thing. Red John got out of his cuffs and jumped you. Cho shot him in the head, but not before he'd managed to get his arms around your neck and yank. Between that and blood loss, you're in pretty bad shape."

Jane frowned as he gingerly poked at the neck brace holding his head immobile. "This is rather irksome."

"It's better than not being able to move at all. Don't even think about taking that off for at least two, maybe three months. The doctor warned me that you're still at high risk of spinal damage if you push it."

He only grunted, still fingering the hard plastic. A minute later he reached for her hand holding the cup. "How badly did he hurt you?"

Her bandaged fingers still throbbed a bit, but she shrugged. "I'm fine - they cleaned me up, gave me some antibiotics, and now it'll just take some time."

To her shock, Jane lifted her hand to his face and gently kissed the abused digits. Then he smiled, but it had an edge to it.

"You played me."

Lisbon reflexively opened her mouth to argue, but then sighed, "Yes, I suppose I did. I didn't mean to. Cho and I were working on a hunch. We had no evidence, just an idea."

"Working on an idea - sounds more like my M.O. don't you think? Why didn't you say anything to me? Red John has always been the reason I work for you."

The accusation in his voice sent an arrow through her chest and she pulled away. Her hand clenched in a fist, she focused on the pain to keep her voice from shaking. "For probably the same reason you faked your breakdown last year. I wasn't sure anything would come of it. Not until Cho found out that my home had been bugged. Until then, we had nothing else to go on except a revelation I had about the sudden murders of Danny Ruskin and Minelli."

That statement made Jane pause. His eyes grew cold and hard. "You figured out that Red John was making us emotionally dependent on each other – to tear us apart." His voice was bitingly sarcastic. "Well done, Lisbon."

Lisbon sat down in the chair and avoided meeting his eyes. "No one knew - only Cho. If nothing came from my plan, then no harm, no foul."

"But it did. He kidnapped us."

"He did. Thankfully we have an amazing team." Lisbon clasped her hands between her knees and looked at the floor. "I don't regret it. We got him. We saved lives. He still nearly killed you."

They sat in silence. Lisbon couldn't resist making small glances at him through her bangs, but Jane was fingering his neck brace again, staring at the ceiling. When he finally spoke, she nearly jumped in surprise.

"How did the others find us?"

She smiled, "They found my watch tracker - they never thought I'd be wearing another. It's been in my shoe and is pressure activated, so no electronic signal to set off any alarms. When they were driving me here, I came-to in the car and noticed my watch was gone. I activated the backup and faked unconsciousness when they brought me in to the studio."

"Hmm… I imagine there were a few mishaps with a pressure sensor in a shoe..." He was still staring at the ceiling.

"I've set it off once or twice by accident, but Cho was able to determine them from the real deal. I suppose the video feed helped."

Jane stiffened. "Video?"

She could see his brilliant mind rapidly weaving together their past couple months and the 'private' moments that they had shared. "Jane, believe me - everything that was said between us, stays between us. The only one with audio was Red John and who knows where his files are. Even if they turn up as evidence, I stand by it all. I..." She swallowed hard but couldn't bring herself to say any more without it sounding cheap and worn out. "It was honest, and _that_ is what Red John couldn't resist."

Blue-green eyes finally turned toward her but they were a confusing simmer of anger and sorrow. "Teresa, I need to be alone right now... I need to think... and I need tea."

"Right..." Lisbon grabbed her light jacket off of the chair as she sprang to her feet. "Um, I'll ask the nurse to bring you some. The doctor said you'll need to be here for about a week, but then you're free to go. But you have to come in for checkups, obviously for your neck."

"Thank you."

At the door, she paused. "Jane... I'm sorry."

He only stared at her until she ducked her head uncomfortably and left.

Out in the parking lot, she sat in her car and cried for an hour before she trusted herself to drive home.

The rest of the week, she sent various members of her team to check in on him until he was released from the hospital on strict instructions for limited driving and physical activity. She sent a box of his favorite tea with Grace, who had tucked it into her purse with a sad smile. She told herself she wasn't avoiding him but that she was busy, again, with cleaning up the mess.

And it was a bit of a mess... Because she and Cho had been doing this long-term steak-out on their own time, it wasn't officially a CBI operation. But for the public, that information was inappropriate. The team and CBI were scrambling to provide a PR-acceptable case and present concrete evidence that this time for certain Red John was dead. Lisbon harbored a secret satisfaction that she had kept her personal promise - Jane wasn't going to prison for murder.

She stayed buried in work until everything had been processed. Internal Affairs had cleared her actions as being necessary and within the law although she had an official reprimand on her record. It was offset by the fact that she and Cho had caught one of the most notorious serial killers known to the State of California.

She smiled through the reprimand and the praises, then took a month of leave. It was granted without question. Cho even took the remaining stack of paperwork with a tiny smile and told her to enjoy her vacation while Rigsby jokingly asked for a souvenir. Grace gave her a long searching look before promising to keep 'the boys' in line in her stead. All three of them politely ignored the empty couch in the corner of the bullpen.

Jane was on indefinite leave and if he decided to return, he was under strict orders from LaRoche that he would need a psychological evaluation.

One week on her own and she was suffering from cabin fever. It didn't help that she kept finding traces of Jane all over her apartment. She broke down once and called him, leaving a very short message on his cell phone that went along the lines of, "Hi, it's me... I won't be at work for a bit. Call me if you want."

Then she called her brothers and arranged a visit with James and then an extended stay with Tommy and Annabeth. Her younger brother deserved a metal - or maybe some homemade pie. He immediately knew why she was calling, having seen the Red John case on TV and heard other details through his bounty-hunting channels. He made a joke about having two women in the house who were probably going to conspire against him, but also added that she was welcome to stay as long as she wanted, as long as she didn't mind sleeping on the couch, as his spare room was currently Annabeth's study. Her niece was taking serious interest in the Police Academy and working double-time to get her grades up.

Lisbon packed up and left her home, but only after she picked up one of Jane's sleep shirts and stuffed it in with her own cloths on a whim. He would never know.

Three days into her stay and just over a week before her vacation would end, she was rolling out pie crust on the kitchen table with Annabeth and throwing flour at each other. Her brother stomped in, casually propping up a shotgun in the corner and kissing his sister on the cheek.

"Hey Reese, I hope that you're making peach pie!"

"It's apple - I'm being traditional. And I hope you have the safety locked on that weapon!"

Tommy rolled his eyes at her, then bent to whisper something to his daughter. Lisbon watched, her hands still cutting out the piecrust to fit the top of her two creations on the kitchen counter. She'd never gotten the hang of weaving the strips together, but preferred cutting out funny little stars and moons, or birds and butterflies out of her pie crusts.

Annabeth moved to the sink and began washing her hands. Lisbon frowned, "Hey - why are you washing up? I thought you were going to decorate one and I was going to do the other. Then we get to ask your dad which one he likes better!"

"Aunt Reese - we both know Dad would choose mine. I mean, daughter trumps sister every time!"

Lisbon was tempted to throw more flour at her but noticed Tommy picking up his bag. "Are you guys going somewhere without me?"

Her brother gave her a dimpled grin. "Got a call - this one is easy. Annabeth and I will be back before the pies are cold."

Lisbon huffed, wanting to put her hands on her hips, but couldn't. "Right then... you guys be careful! And you'd better hurry or I might eat them by myself!"

"You'd never do that."Annabeth threw a baseball cap on over her flour-dusted head and grabbed her own bag. "You're too worried you'd get fat!"

Tommy laughed when Lisbon chased her out of the kitchen with a well-placed kick to her backside. He gave her a hug that lasted a little longer than was normal. Family green eyes looked down at her and he brushed some flour out of her hair.

"Hey sis... just remember that you do deserve some happiness like a normal person. Take it and hold on to it. Call me later."

She frowned but before she could question his sudden seriousness, he released her and was out the door. With a sigh, she returned to her pies with slightly less enthusiasm. Setting the timer, she slid the finished creations into the oven and began washing her hands.

Using the reflection in the kitchen window above the sink, she couldn't help laughing at how well Annabeth had floured her. She finger-brushed as much as she could with her wet hands. She was going to have to replace the Band-Aids on her fingers again, but it was worth it. Even thought they had healed, she still couldn't stand to look at the damage, plus it was rather unnerving to be cooking with her hands in such a state.

Movement in the window had her turning and reaching at her hip for a gun she wasn't carrying.

"Hello, Teresa."

Patrick Jane stood in the kitchen doorway, a dress shirt messily paired with jeans, un-tucked and sleeves rolled up. His hair was just as unruly as ever and even with the neck brace he was absolutely devastating to her heart.

"Jane!" She froze.

He smiled nervously, hands jammed in the pockets of his jeans.

She asked the only thing that popped into her mind. "Did you drive here?"

At that, he frowned and things almost felt like they were back in the bullpen. "No, woman... I did not drive as per doctor's orders. I took a taxi from the airport."

"Right..." Lisbon glanced at the mess on the kitchen table and wished she'd worn an apron, but gestured to a chair. "Well, you clearly have set me up for this visit - so why are you here?"

He slowly obeyed, but he wasn't wincing in any pain. He grinned at her obvious perusal of his condition. "I'm fine, Lisbon. No pain unless I try to fight the brace, or when I wash my hair. Can't quite reach my arms that high without straining." His eyes darkened with something she couldn't quite read. He held out his hand toward her, open palm wordlessly pleading.

She stared at him, knowing what he was asking. Could they hold on to the fragile thing they had built under the shadow of Red John? Or was it always going to be tainted by revenge and hate? That hand was worse than a spontaneous trust fall.

She was tempted, so painfully tempted, but she only looked at him from across the room.

"Jane... Patrick... The statistics of relationships born out of extreme circumstances are not in our favor. And look at us - we are nothing _but_ an extreme circumstance."

His hand didn't waver. "Statistics are also for normal people - and using your argument, when have we ever been normal or average."

She smiled, "I see your point. But you understand why I am over here."

At that, Jane stood and moved toward her, backing her against the sink. He trapped her there without touching, hands on the ceramic on either side of her. She crossed her arms to keep herself from reaching for him.

"I shouldn't have been that way to you in the hospital. Red John is dead." Jane leaned in to speak gently, directly into her ear. "I can accept that... I can move on now. Yet, I find that every time I consider a future, it always includes you. I've even tried to actually, consciously exclude you from possible scenarios, only to toss them out because they are completely uninteresting. My only conclusion is to stay and let us have whatever it is we have. I have lived with revenge for so long... now all I have is you and the CBI."

Lisbon fought to keep her heart from overruling her head. She couldn't afford to let him sweet-talk her just to walk away again. She wouldn't be able to take it - it would break her. She had to be sure.

"Is that all you want though? Just me, and the CBI?"

He looked confused for a moment then carefully took in her stance and her frown. A boyish hope grew in his eyes and he cautiously slipped a hand from the sink to her hip. "No, it's not all. But it's all I deserve. I don't think I should ask you for any more than that, Teresa."

"You deserve so much more than what you think, Patrick Jane." Lisbon daringly slid her own hands to his waist under his shirt. She enjoyed the flinch and the darkening of his eyes when she found skin. "It won't be perfect. It won't be easy. But if you swear you won't ever run, we might make it."

Jane pulled her to him, pressing her smaller frame as close as possible under the circumstances of his injury. "I am happy with you, Teresa. That's all I need now. I never thought I'd be happy again. Content, possibly - in a best-case scenario - but never happy." He led her back to the kitchen chair and sat down before drawing her to sit on his knees. She realized it was so they could be face to face without either of them straining.

With a grin, she shocked him by straddling his legs and leaning in. "Does that mean you'll listen to me when we're on duty?"

He smiled back, one hand sliding up and down her thigh and the other pushing her still-floury bangs out of her eye. "Where's the fun in that? Besides, you need me to keep you on your toes."

When she rolled her eyes, she caught a gleam from his left hand, the one still touching her face. She stilled.

His ring was new. It was no longer the worn, and scuffed gold band from his marriage over ten years ago. This one was new, clean and polished with an Irish-inspired pattern.

Jane's smile shifted with a tinge of sadness. "It was time to let go, to start over. They would understand - and I knew you would too."

Lisbon wrapped her fingers around his and leaned in to kiss him. He held her, let her trace the pink scars under his shirt with tender touches. He tasted every part of her neck that he could reach despite the brace and then whined amusingly at the oven timer when it went off.

A year later, he would tell her that he had her matching ring in his pocket the entire time. She'd throw a pencil at him in reply.

_Author's Final Note: So, please show your appreciation or criticism in a REVIEW! Stick a fork in this - it's done._


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